


We Are Full Of Stories To Be Told

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Old Married Couple, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: When you're on the cusp of getting back together, lots of little things can help cement the fact that it's a good idea. Meeting your future married selves? Well, now that one just seems like cheating.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 34
Kudos: 254





	We Are Full Of Stories To Be Told

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Laughter Lines by Bastille, a very fitting song, given...well, how many that appear in this.

One year later, Alex has learned an important lesson – just because you’re older, doesn’t mean you’re any wiser. Even though his life (and more specifically his heart) has been ripped to shreds by a wild alien-shaped tornado, he’s found a way to balance himself in the eye of that storm.

They’ve had to get used to it, but they’ve had the time.

Noah’s gone and Isobel is still healing. With Rosa back, that seems to be taking longer than it might have without her around, but they’re making it work. Rosa still barely talks to any of the aliens, despite their sincere and deepest apologies for their part in putting the blame on her in the cover-up, but she won’t automatically walk out of the room if they’re in it. 

That’s a start.

It had taken them two months to get Max back. Michael had been the one to figure out that it took voltage, not just their powers. They’d combined their powers and used a huge generator (one that could’ve powered a small town) to raise Max from the dead. The nosebleeds the both of them had after lasted for weeks, but were a small price to pay to get Max back, as far as everyone is concerned.

Michael’s two-month downward spiral had almost taken Maria and Alex (and their friendship) out with him, but somewhere around the second week of Michael trying to use liquor in place of _food_, they’d both figured out that it was best to avoid his destructive whirlwind. Maria and Alex had locked themselves in the Wild Pony for thirty-two hours and came out on the other side closer friends.

They’d both been crying, but they’d vowed to work at their friendship instead of hiding behind the things they didn’t say.

Maria had broken up with Michael that same morning, but Alex hadn’t made a single offer to take him back. Since then, the group of them have created a team. It’s small but mighty, and regular meals at the Crashdown are their way of quickly getting everyone up to speed. With Kyle and Liz working on the medical side of things, Alex takes over the tech. Maria provides the gossip from her regulars, and Michael, Isobel, and Max do whatever they can, wherever it’s needed. Rosa stays out of it, citing too much alien drama for one lifetime, and Arturo is all too happy to protect her from the group.

Rosa hasn’t accepted their apologies, but these days she looks like she might. Arturo is another case all together and Alex suspects that will never happen.

For Alex, the last few months have also become a lesson in torture. 

Alex swears that, lately, Michael has been a menace unlike anything he’s ever seen. He flirts outrageously, but only with Alex, and he’s touching him _all the time_. Alex reminds himself of all the reasons he’s keeping his distance – the sobriety Michael is pursuing, the therapy Alex is in, that he knows they won’t survive another crash and burn – but Michael is making it nearly impossible.

In fact, at that very moment while Kyle is talking about getting hold of some decommissioned medical equipment to run tests on the aliens, Michael’s foot is sliding up and down Alex’s calf – the one that’s flesh and blood at least. He’s enduring it without kicking at Michael, but then the foot slides higher, between his thighs.

Alex yelps in alarm, getting Kyle’s frantic attention.

“Are you okay? It’s just x-rays,” he says, as if Alex’s protest is about the fact that Kyle wants to do full body x-rays on Max, Michael, and Isobel.

Alex glowers at Michael and pushes his napkin from his lap to the table. “Can you excuse me?” Everyone shifts to let him out from the table, which he does with his head bowed down, trying his best not to catch Michael’s eye as he leaves, but also reciting Spanish conjugation rules in his head so he doesn’t have to do a walk of shame with an erection. 

He’s grateful that no one follows him into the bathroom. Once inside, he takes his time calming down, staring at himself in the mirror and reminding himself that this time is different. He’s not pushing to be back in Michael’s bed, but he’s not running away.

When the time is right, things will work out. 

With that thought calming him down, he splashes some cold water on his face before he heads back, knowing that Michael isn’t likely to _stop_ tormenting him, so it’s best if Alex steadies himself for the inevitable.

As he’s leaving the bathroom, his phone pings him with the alert he’s set up for extraterrestrial activity in the area. Frowning, he stops at the head of the table, eyes wide with alarm because that much energy is…well, they haven’t seen a spike like that since the night that Noah died. 

“Where’s it localized?” Michael demands, which means they all got he alarm too. 

Oh, good. At least Alex knows that in order to get him focused on the task at hand, they just need a code red. If the energy spike hadn’t been enough to cause panic, where it’s localized would be. 

“Foster Ranch,” he says, once he plugs in the coordinates and it spits back out a very familiar location. They’ve never come up with an answer as to whether the site of the crash in 1947 had been an accident or a planned destination. Having a second incident there definitely creates a pattern that hadn’t existed before.

“Go,” Liz says, gesturing for them to move. “Maria, start Max’s car,” she says, tossing her keys. 

“Kyle, Alex, come on,” Michael snaps, shoving at them. Maybe it’s that they’re closest to the door, or maybe it’s because after Caulfield, the three of them have been going on investigations together. 

Michael has never said it out loud, but Alex suspects it has a lot to do with trust. Whatever had happened in the halls of Caulfield before Alex got down there meant that Michael could somehow trust Kyle. He’ll take it, because it means that he doesn’t have to worry about any awkward conversations in the same car as Isobel and Max (from the alien side) or Maria and Liz (probing on the human romantic side). 

They head out to Foster Ranch, with the others following them in the Jeep, trying their best to keep up with Michael’s lead foot.

“Can you at least try and pretend you want us to get there alive?” Kyle snaps at him.

“We don’t know what it is, if we don’t get there fast, we could lose it!”

Alex is literally in the middle of them, but also in the middle of their arguments, because he knows from experience how fickle it can be chasing after these leads. At the same time, he’s been in a fiery wreck before and he’d really like to avoid experiencing that again. He grabs hold of the dash in front of him, knuckles going white, and though no one says anything, Michael glances to his hands, and then takes twenty miles off their speed.

He breathes out a relieved sigh, especially when they hit the building site to see a spaceship looming in front of them.

It’s all in one piece, too. 

“What the hell?” Michael demands sharply, looking _angry_. 

Alex is missing some piece of the puzzle. He would have thought that Michael would be amazed and delighted to see a ship that clearly comes from his home. It looks so much like the pieces in the bunker that he wants to get closer, shoving at Kyle to get him out once they’re parked. “Guerin, come on, there could be people inside it,” Alex says eagerly, but before he can get out of the truck, Michael grabs his collar to stop him. “Hey!” he snaps. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“That’s my ship.”

“I know, that’s why I want to see if anyone from your planet is in there,” Alex replies, not sure why Michael is being such an idiot about this.

“No, Alex, that’s _my ship_, the one I’ve been building. It matches my schematics exactly, which means…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Kyle’s already out of the truck when the door from the ship opens, while Alex peers through the windshield to figure out what’s going on. When he does, he feels an onslaught of shock, because that might be Michael’s ship, but he is ninety-nine percent sure that the man who just walked out of the ship is _him_, followed by Michael. 

“Guerin, tell me you’re seeing that.”

There’s no response, but Michael’s grip on his collar gets a lot tighter. 

From here, Alex doesn’t have a good look at them, but he can see the confusion on Kyle’s face. Soon, there’s going to be a lot more people, so if he wants an explanation, Alex thinks he needs to get out of the car and go chase it down. “Come on,” he says, because he feels like they need to face this. “Let’s get some answers.”

“Just remember, I’m not the evil twin,” Michael quips, sounding wary. 

Alex gets out of the car and approaches in time to hear Kyle demanding to know how this is possible, but it becomes fairly apparent to Alex when he gets close enough to see them in the headlights of Michael’s truck. It’s them, but it’s not the same them. Alex definitely doesn’t have that much white in his hair and those wrinkles on Michael’s forehead aren’t there in such commanding presence today. 

Alex watches, stunned, as this other Michael helps steady what looks like Alex’s future self as he climbs down from the ship, staring around at the sky, patting himself down, and then turning to the Future Michael to cup his cheeks, kissing him. 

It’s rude to eavesdrop, but they’re so close and it’s impossible not to hear the wry sarcasm in his own voice as he praises Michael for not killing them in a spaceship crash.

“Okay,” Kyle exhales, clearly saying what they’re all thinking. “This is weird.”

“You think this is weird?” the older version of Alex says, “Try realizing how little moisturizing your husband did in the past by seeing his younger self.”

Alex gapes at them, his mouth open, and he feels like the only reason he doesn’t pass out is because Kyle physically grabs him by both shoulders to support him and hold him tight.

Before anyone’s had any time to process, the sound of squealing brakes means that they’ve got company. Michael’s standing beside Alex, just as speechless, and Kyle is still holding them both back by virtue of having his hands on Alex and Alex reaching out to prevent Michael from charging over.

“…whoa,” says Liz, swearing under her breath in Spanish.

“Well,” Isobel says calmly. “I guess I owe Michael five bucks.” She raises her brows and gives the moment some much-needed humor. “He didn’t drink himself to death after all.”

The older man, who Alex knows is Michael, grins at her with the look only a brother can give a sister. “It’s nice to see you too, Isobel,” he says, with Michael’s voice, and Michael’s smile, and it’s a good thing that Kyle is keeping him vertical, because otherwise Alex might do something stupid like pass out.

“I guess we should explain,” Future Alex says, his own voice echoing in Alex’s head.

The _future_ version of himself. Holy shit.

“I think you should,” Alex agrees coolly, because there are answers they need – like how they got here, what they need, what they’re doing. Then there are the answers that Alex wants – the rings on their fingers, the way they kissed, how they’re looking at each other. 

It's going to be hell reminding himself to get the former answers first, but he’ll do it.

* * *

It turns out that they’ve crash landed.

That’s bad enough, but them crash landing in the past is an extra wrinkle in the plan. 

They’ve gone back to the bunker (with the ship in the back of Michael’s truck), with most of them jammed into the two trucks together. Maria and Max had stayed behind at the site to make sure that no one from the Air Force came to investigate the landing, insisting that if anything goes wrong, they’d call.

On the drive back, Michael tries to get used to the fact that when he rambles about equations and formulas, someone is there who both understands him and knows even more. He can see the way Alex starts to go a little cross-eyed at the discussion, even though Future Alex seems to be nodding his head like he’s keeping up.

By the time they reach the cabin, they’ve put their heads together and have a theory about how when they’d pierced a certain lightspeed, they’d ripped through time and space and come out in the wrong year. Inside the cabin, Michael wants to figure out how they solve that problem, and he thinks there’s probably something in the Project Shepherd files strewn around Alex’s living room. 

“Can we send you back?” Liz asks warily.

“I think so,” Future Michael says, glancing to Michael like he wants the verification. “Alex, can you get me those files?” he directs, with the ease of someone who’s been living here for a long time. It unnerves Michael, but excites him at the same time, like he can’t believe that this could potentially be a future that he gets someday.

For a moment, both of the Alexes move, but it’s Future Alex who’s faster and somehow more stable, reaching up to grab a box of files from one of the upper bookshelves. When he does, the ankle of his jeans rides up slightly, giving Michael a glimpse of a very familiar shimmering iridescence that peeks out beneath it. What he doesn’t understand is _how_.

“What the fuck,” he breathes out.

Future Alex turns, setting the box down, and gapes at the confused looks he’s getting. Michael turns and sees that same shock and confusion mirrored on Alex’s face. Future Alex seems to figure out where they’re staring quickly, giving a soft and knowing laugh. He bends down to hike up his pants leg to the knee, which reveals exactly what Michael had expected. 

It's a prosthetic built of the alien glass, gleaming and glorious.

Future Alex looks at his leg with a loving look towards Future Michael, and it’s packed with so much affection that it almost knocks Michael over with the warmth of that one look. Michael isn’t sure that anyone has ever looked at him like that, though he thinks if anyone’s going to, it'll be Alex.

What Michael doesn’t understand is how that’s possible. He knows that it’s so light that his balance would be off, and yet, the way it curves so perfectly and the connection between prosthetic and leg doesn’t look half as painful as the one Alex is wearing right now.

“It’s tempered with earth metals,” Future Alex explains, like he already knows the problem bugging Michael.

Clearly, it’s not only Michael who’s rapt in the reveal, given how Kyle and the rest of the peanut gallery are also gaping. It’s a project that Michael’s thought about doing before, but there’s a few parts about it that he doesn’t understand.

It looks like Kyle’s also confused, because when Michael opens his mouth to ask his questions, he has to compete with Kyle’s.

“Wait, you’re telling me the ship is able to work without the full pieces…”

“How are you compensating with the weight of it and how is it interacting with your…”

“…_and_ how is it not trying to bind together with the ship?” Michael demands louder, trying to speak over Kyle.

He's not going to be cowed so easily. “…skin, seeing as haven’t tested long term exposure to the alien materials on human skin.”

Future Michael and Future Alex exchange an amused look, and with the files from the top shelf in Future Michael’s hands, they settle into the shitty old armchair that Alex refuses to throw out because it’s comfortable. Michael’s stopped bugging Alex about it, because when he’s sitting in it, he always looks so comfortable and Michael wants to do anything to keep him happy.

“Remember when you used to hate Kyle like that?” Future Alex says.

Michael wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, god, are you telling me that in the future, I like Valenti?”

Kyle glowers at him to remind him that the feeling’s mutual. 

Yet, does that dissuade Future Michael? “He’s my emergency contact after Alex,” he says, and okay, well, the future is starting to look like a little bit of good and bad, because if he’s that close with Kyle, then something definitely went awry. On the other hand, his future self figured out how to marry Alex, so maybe he should accept a few inexplicable friendships.

“Can we go back a little?” Liz pleads. “How old are both of you?”

“Fifty-five,” Future Alex says proudly, adjusting his position as he sits on Future Michael’s lap, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Future Michael delves into the files. “We were heading into space for our wedding anniversary, actually, and I guess we took a wrong turn through the wrong cosmic anomaly,” he quips, shooting Future Michael a wry look. 

Future Michael lets out an affronted noise. “We made the journey alive. Poor you, having to see how great your ass looks when you’re twenty-something again,” he says, and tips his head to the side, clearly enjoying that view, himself. “That’s not the kind of hardship I’m gonna complain about.”

“Hey!” Michael snaps and grabs his Alex back to hide him behind his body, like that’s going to do anything. “Stop staring at my bo…at his ass,” he says, fumbling because it’s not like ‘my friend’s ass’ has the same weight that these future assholes have. 

Future married assholes, god, he hates them so much (and only because he’s so stupidly jealous). 

“Michael,” his future self calls to him. “take my Alex with you and get the ship ready again.” He bends over to scribble something on a piece of paper, handing it to him. They’re coordinates and Michael’s heart skips a beat, wondering if that’s where their home is. “Have it ready to go in that direction. Alex will help,” he says, and gives his husband a pat on the flank.

With ease, Future Alex rises and heads for the door to start working on Future Michael’s orders.

Michael isn’t so quick to follow. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asks Alex, even though there’s a whole group of people who will make sure that nothing untoward happens with their future selves. He’s outnumbered, and Michael feels a bolt of vindication knowing that.

Alex seems overwhelmed, but he nods his promise. Michael squeezes his shoulders as he passes, aware that every set of eyes are following him, but he’s not entirely capable of focusing on that right now. Instead, he lets the cool night air act as a refresh for his mind. It’s been a hell of a night and he’s happy not to be inside staring at his future self, but he’s not entirely sure how much better this is. 

Out here, there’s nearly nothing to distract him from staring at this future version of Alex.

Alex looks as handsome at fifty-five as he does today. His hair is threaded with whites and he’s moving with more fluidity, like he’s settled into his skin. He keeps getting wrapped up in the way he smiles so easily. Inside, he couldn’t help noticing the way Future Alex seemed to look to Future Michael first, how he leaned into him subconsciously, but what’s really grabbing Michael’s attention are the wrinkles on his face, namely the ones around his lips and his eyes.

It’s evidence of a man who’s spent his life smiling, not in pain.

Something happened to make that change in Alex’s life, and Michael has to hope that he’s the reason. What he really needs to understand is how it happened. 

“Okay, guide the ship back this way,” Future Alex interrupts his thoughts, like he’s already seen the coordinates (and he probably has, because Future Michael seems to share everything with him). Michael has to pry his gaze away from his constant lingering stare, which had descended down to how fit his body still looks, even at that age.

Michael focuses on the ship, using his powers to place it in the middle of the yard where the propulsion won’t light the whole cabin on fire. From there, he uses an extra burst of energy to get it angled in the direction of the coordinates Future Michael had given to him. 

“That’s amazing, Michael,” Future Alex praises when Michael finishes getting it in the precise position it needs to be, but what Michael isn’t expecting is the small patch that Future Alex hands him like he’s a dog receiving a treat.

Michael stares at it, lifting it to his nose, and smelling acetone. “What the hell?”

“Kyle’s idea, actually. We took patches and soaked them with acetone to try and make them like a nicotine patch. We use it on Michael when he’s used his powers to regulate how much acetone gets into his system.” Michael eyes the patch warily, but he applies it to his skin, beginning to feel the usual numbing, though not with the same rush. It’s annoying how good it feels, if only because of who came up with the idea.

He really doesn’t want to give Valenti the credit for this, so he’ll focus on the other thing that’s strange that Future Alex had mentioned.

“When do you start calling me _Michael_?” he questions. 

Future Alex looks at him from where he’s half-hanging out of the ship tinkering with earth electronics plugged into the alien console. He blinks, like he’s surprised by the question, and it takes him more than a few moments before he answers. “Shit,” he says, scoffing as he shakes his head. “You know, I actually can’t remember? I know it wasn’t before I got back from the war,” he says. “You’re still only Guerin?”

Michael nods, not sure he trusts his voice to answer.

“I guess probably around when I turned thirty? Definitely when we got back together. Your last name was like a boundary I kept up, so when we got back together, it meant a lot to have that fall.”

That sends Michael’s heart leaping, because it’s one thing to believe that they’ll work their shit out and manage to make it back towards one another. It’s another thing entirely to be told by your future husband that it will happen. 

“How?” he demands. “When? What do I do?” He knows he should have faith in him and Alex, but he’d kill for a hint. He suspects that they’ll be married by thirty, but that’s still two years away and they’re not even back together yet. 

The sympathetic look he gets rankles and infuriates him, even though Michael knows that even if he got the answer, he’d still be liable to fuck it all up.

Michael lets out a scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

That smirk on Future Alex’s face hasn’t changed over the next few decades, and it frustrates Michael so much that he crawls inside the ship to help get it set up, but also to take a few furtive pictures with his phone. He deserves a cheat sheet, but what really strikes him is how incredible it is to see the ship in its finished state. Maybe Michael had been getting to the point where he didn’t exactly believe it’d ever get finished. 

When he ducks out, his phone has all the pictures he thinks he’ll need and Future Alex is watching him with his arms crossed over his chest, like he’s patiently waiting for him to finish. It's like he already knows Michael’s in there, stealing all the answers to the test (so to speak). 

“Where in space were you going for your anniversary?” he asks. “Can I at least know that?”

There’s more of that sympathetic look and more silence from Future Alex.

“You’re no fun,” Michael grumbles.

“That’s not what you say to me most nights.”

Oh, so Future Alex will tease him with that? Clearly, he’s just as much of an asshole as he is now. Michael opens his mouth to tell him so when he hears movement nearby. The scrape of the door is the one to the bunker that he’d helped install a few weeks ago, and he watches Future Michael coming out of the basement with the others in tow.

“I think we’re ready,” Future Michael says, wandering out from the cabin with what appears to be the flight drive restored and in working order. 

What strikes Michael is how _quickly_ all this has happened. He knows that if he crash-landed in another universe and he could get out of there quickly, he wouldn’t stick around for Sunday dinner either, but he still wants them to. He wants to stare at his future self and take solace in the knowledge that somehow, he manages to fix everything and get a happy ending.

Or maybe it’s for the best that they go. What happens if they stick around and Michael discovers that it’s not as great as it looks? Would that be worse, to know that even though they get together and get married, they’re still unhappy deep down? They don’t seem it, though, and if anyone would be able to see past the veneer, it’d be him.

He knows what happiness looks like on his face, and he’s wildly jealous that Future Michael looks happier than Michael thinks he’s ever been before in his life.

“Take care,” Liz says, and wraps her arms snugly around Future Michael before moving on to do the same to Future Alex. “We’re going to try and knock some sense into these versions of you, but I’m not making any promises.” She’s followed by awkward back-pats from Valenti, who echoes the sentiment.

Isobel’s last, and she steps in to hug Future Michael, but she clearly has been trying to get information out of him the same as Michael’s been doing with Future Alex.

“Tell me if I’m…”

“Isobel,” Future Michael snaps, rolling his eyes. “For the last time, I’m not telling you anything about the future. We’re breaking enough shit being back here,” he mutters irritably, and heads to Future Alex’s side, where a simple touch of his palm to Future Michael’s cheek makes him exhale and calm down. Clearly, she’s annoyed about this, but she rolls her eyes and moves along.

Michael knows that’s just how he and Isobel roll, so he doesn’t think much of it. 

Finally, it’s his and Alex’s turn, but it feels awkward to do this while the others are staring at them, so Michael clears his throat. “Could we, uh, do this privately?” he requests, giving Liz, Kyle, and Isobel a hopeful look. It’s not like he has any plans to get to his knees and beg for explanations, but he has no idea how this is going to go, which means he’d rather avoid the audience.

“We’ll have drinks waiting,” Valenti says as he helps to corral Isobel and Liz back inside, which is helpful and thoughtful and god, Michael hates that he’s being so decent. 

It’s really messing with his head. 

The others leave Michael and Alex alone to say goodbye to their future selves before they head back to their future (and Michael hopes that’s where they’re going, because it would really suck to have seen into your future only to also know that you’ve seen the end of your life).

“So,” says Future Michael, flicking his fingers between the two of them before he glances to Future Alex. “You tell them anything?”

“Not a thing.”

“Proud of you, baby,” Future Michael says smugly, wrapping his arm around Future Alex’s waist to bring him in against Future Michael’s chest. “Look, we’re you, you’re us. We know how this works. We know what you’re feeling. I’m not even a little worried about getting in this ship and my future getting fucked up because the pieces want to be together, and you’ll make it work.”

That’s a lot more confidence than Michael really feels, but he can see Alex nodding out of the corner of his eye.

“Talk to each other,” Future Alex says, because of course Alex is always the more helpful one. “You love each other, and right now, there’s a lot of bad, but there’s so much that you’ve still got to experience.” He gives Future Michael an overwhelmed look, like he can’t believe how much he loves him. “Breakfast in bed, knowing that you have a partner in crime, holding hands in downtown Roswell after a date,” he lists. “Saying, I love you,” he says it to Future Michael.

“I love you too, Alex,” Michael’s future self murmurs back, and god, it’s making Michael ache so desperately for something he could almost have. 

Maybe they can be trusted, because there’s absolutely nothing that Michael wouldn’t do to make this happen. 

Future Michael is the first to step forward and he drags Alex into a hug, murmuring something privately to him that has Michael’s jealousy soaring, but he’s quickly distracted when Future Alex yanks on the hem of his sweater to get his attention, like an errant child.

His eyes go wide as he stares at him, knowing that it’ll be the last time he sees this version of Alex’s handsome and dignified face for decades.

“You’ll be okay,” Future Alex promises. “Give him a shot. Give me a real shot,” he clarifies. “I know we don’t deserve it, after how many times we walked away from you, but there’s so much happiness that we have, it just requires you to…leap off the cliff,” he jokes. 

Michael feels a little panicked. Did he really tell Alex at some point that he’s compared their love to crash landings and other dangerous activities? From the look on Future Alex’s face, apparently yes.

He doesn’t get the chance to clarify before they switch and it’s Future Michael standing right in front of him, like a funhouse mirror that distorts your whole being, leaving you unnerved and shaken.

“Hey, fuck up,” his future self says with a smirk.

“Asshole,” Michael retorts right back. “How the hell do we do it? How do we get Alex?”

“Lotta hard work,” Future Michael admits. “Proving that our downward spiral’s over, that we’re not punishing him for things his father did, putting ourselves completely out there and hoping he doesn’t smash us to tiny bits.” Michael looks down to his future self’s hand, to where a beautiful ring made of alien glass adorns his left ring finger. “It’s worth it.” His gaze slides to where both versions of Alex are talking. “He’s so worth it.”

Michael knows deep down that he’s never agreed with something more.

“Be safe, okay?” Michael insists, trying to hide the roughness in his voice, from the way he kind of wants to cry. “It’d suck if today’s our death day.”

“Nah,” Future Michael promises, and holds out a hand for Future Alex to take. “Him and I have got way more of a story to write.”

Michael steps back and tugs Alex with him, watching their future literally get into a spaceship to go through a start-up sequence that will send them blasting back into the universe. Michael’s phone has the secrets of the console and he’s twitching with excitement both for the prospect of building this ship, but also because he feels like he has a foot in the door when it comes to his relationship with Alex, too.

He keeps pulling them until they’re a safe distance away. The engine doesn’t look like it uses typical Earth propulsion, but better safe than sorry. What’s genuinely surprising is how quiet the ship is as it begins to hover, and then with little warning, shoots up towards the sky, on their way back to attempt to pierce through time itself and get back home. 

Within seconds, they’re gone.

The desert night is the only thing making noise around them now – cicadas and the rustle of animals out in the desert – and nearby, the lights from inside Alex’s cabin beckon them with the safety of warmth and waiting drinks.

Michael and Alex stand frozen there, watching the ship ascend, and for Michael, he knows that he can’t leave until they clear the air. 

“Does this change everything?” Alex asks quietly, proving that Alex is on the same page.

It feels weirdly anticlimactic. If they get together now, is it because they feel like they’re fated to do it because their future selves are happily married and have been for almost twenty-five years? Is it a prophetic loop that they were always supposed to follow? 

Michael turns to give Alex a curious look, keeping a safe distance between them. “Do you want it to?” 

He's been trying as hard as he can to get them back together. Maybe not in the most romantic of ways or how Alex deserves, but he’s been trying. It’s not like he got detailed tips from Alex’s future self about how to pull out all the stops and make things better, but he feels a lot more confident now. It’s like he knows that if he figures out the right solution to the equation, then the thrill of it will be unparalleled

“I don’t know,” Alex admits, which does put a dent in that belief, but Michael refuses to be sunk so easily. “So much can happen between then and now. What if we ruin it? What if that amazing married couple who just took off never happens because we keep fucking it up?”

“They said they trust us,” Michael reminds him. “Pretty stupid, right?”

Alex isn’t laughing even though Michael’s done his best to turn it into a joke. “I trust us,” he says defensively. “The way you’ve been with me lately, the touching and the flirting. I’ve been trying to keep you at arm’s length because I never thought you were serious about it. I thought maybe this is another way of coping or just you trying to screw around with me,” he rambles, and he steps closer to Michael as he’s speaking, “but that?” He gestures skywards, where the trail of Michael’s ship (_their_ ship) is vanishing in the atmosphere. “That shows me that all of this isn’t just a tease. That’s a future, Guerin. And I think that it’s one I want.”

He says that last bit so cautiously and with nerves flooding the statement, but Michael only reads the hope in it. 

“Crashdown,” Alex says. “Next Saturday night. None of the group, just you and me.”

“That sounds like a date,” Michael isn’t joking this time, because his words are completely serious, even though his heart is making moves to try and leap out of his chest. “Is it?”

“It is,” Alex confirms, and takes the next few steps so that he’s toe to toe with Michael, staring into his eyes. “I know we don’t get that future without having to fight for it, a little. I think the best way to start is with chocolate milkshakes.” 

He squeezes Michael’s shoulder as he levers his way past him to get back inside to the cabin, smiling softly as he goes. Michael recognizes it as _hope_, something he hasn’t seen on Alex’s face so blatantly in a long time. 

Before he joins him, he turns to tip his head up towards the stars. All proof of their future has vanished into the galaxy, but Michael rubs a hand over his heart, murmuring a quiet moment of gratitude for what he thinks might have tipped the odds in his favor for getting this second chance with Alex.

True, he’s got work of his own to do, but it’s way easier to ace the test when you’ve seen the answers, and after today, Michael feels like he’s got the world’s best cheat sheet helping him along.

* * *

“Last chance to back out, Alex,” Michael teases, from where he’s perched on Alex’s lap, helping apply eyeliner before they go stand in front of Max and read their vows to one another. 

The rings on their hands match their future selves’ exactly, they’re getting hitched at the same point in the timeline, but instead of feeling fated, it’s more like they’re the ones in control. Maybe they’re the ones driving this and shaping the future, because Alex refuses to let this feel like an afterthought that was meant to be. They’ve _made_ this happen and they deserve today.

“Why would I do that?” Alex replies, keeping steady and still. “I already know how much of a stone-cold silver fox you’re gonna be. Honestly,” he mock-sighs, “it’s only a shame you won’t go silver sooner.”

“Yeah, well, the way you’re making me moisturize makes me think we’re gonna change the course of the future,” Michael grumbles, squinting (and creating those very forehead lines that Alex is trying to help prevent) as he finishes with the last of the eyeliner. “There. I think you’re perfect.”

Alex flushes at the compliment, leaning over to look at himself in the mirror. He’d found his first white hair a few weeks ago, but the prospect of the future doesn’t scare him the way it used to. Ever since that visit from their future selves, Alex has chosen to look at the future as something amazing and incredible, because he gets twenty-five years with the man in his lap.

He stares at them in the mirror, wondering if this is how it had been meant to go all along, or if that future only exists because of the decisions they’ve made. Then, Isobel shouts that they’re running behind schedule and all thoughts of destiny and fate fly out of his mind. 

“Ready to get married?” Michael asks, reluctantly rising from Alex’s lap to stand on his feet, offering both hands out to him. They’re facing one another, foreheads pressed together, with Michael’s hands loosely tangled up in Alex’s tux jacket (because if he wrinkles it, both Alex and Isobel will kill him). 

Alex takes in a deep breath, but there are no nerves about today.

He already knows that he’s in store for at least a quarter-century of happiness and love, but it’s not because a ship came out of the sky to give him that message. It’s because he loves Michael and Michael loves him back, and _together_, they’re willing to work on becoming better men. 

“Let’s go become those future selves,” Alex agrees, tangling his fingers with Michael’s to take his hand, ready to lead him onwards down the aisle and towards that happy tomorrow they’ve been creating together.

It’s time for them to write the next chapter in their story.


End file.
